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Title: The Naturalist on the River Amazons Author: Henry Walter Bates Release Date: December, 2000 [eBook #2440] [Most recently updated: August 21, 2021] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 Produced by: Martin Adamson *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NATURALIST ON THE RIVER AMAZONS *** EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS SCIENCE BATES’ NATURALIST ON THE AMAZONS WITH AN APPRECIATION BY DARWIN Hoc solum scio quod nihil scio Illustrated title page THE NATURALIST ON THE RIVER AMAZONS By HENRY WALTER BATES LONDON: PUBLISHED BY J. M. DENT & SONS LTD AND IN NEW YORK BY E. P. DUTTON & CO. First issue of this edition 1910 Reprinted 1914 Contents Chapter I—PARÁ Arrival — Aspect of the Country — The Pará River — First Walk in the Suburbs of Pará — Birds, Lizards, and Insects of the Suburbs — Leaf-carrying Ant — Sketch of the Climate, History, and present Condition of Pará. Chapter II—PARÁ The Swampy Forests of Pará — A Portuguese Landed Proprietor — Country House at Nazareth — Life of a Naturalist under the Equator — The drier Virgin Forests — Magoary — Retired Creeks — Aborigines. Chapter III—PARÁ Religious Holidays — Marmoset Monkeys — Serpents — Insects. Chapter IV—THE TOCANTINS AND CAMETÁ Preparations for the Journey — The Bay of Goajará — Grove of Fan-leaved Palms — The lower Tocantins — Sketch of the River — Vista Alegre — Baiao — Rapids — Boat Journey to the Guariba Falls — Native Life on the Tocantins — Second Journey to Cametá. Chapter V—CARIPÍ AND THE BAY OF MARAJÓ River Pará and Bay of Marajó — Journey to Caripí — Negro Observance of Christmas — A German Family — Bats — Ant-eaters — Humming-birds — Excursion to the Murucupi — Domestic Life of the Inhabitants — Hunting Excursion with Indians — White Ants. Chapter VI—THE LOWER AMAZONS — PARÁ TO OBYDOS Modes of Travelling on the Amazons — Historical Sketch of the Early Explorations of the River — Preparations for Voyage — Life on Board a large Trading Vessel — The narrow Channels joining the Pará to the Amazons — First Sight of the Great River — Gurupá — The Great Shoal — Flat-topped Mountains — Santarem — Obydos. Chapter VII—THE LOWER AMAZONS — OBYDOS TO MANAOS, OR THE BARRA OF THE RIO NEGRO Departure from Obydos — River Banks and By-channels — Cacao Planters — Daily Life on Board our Vessel — Great Storm — Sand-island and its Birds — Hill of Parentins — Negro Trader and Mauhes Indians — Villa Nova, its Inhabitants, Forest, and Animal Productions — Cararaucú — A Rustic Festival — Lake of Cararaucú — Motuca Flies — Serpa — Christmas Holidays — River Madeira — A Mameluco Farmer — Mura Indians — Rio Negro — Description of Barra — Descent to Pará — Yellow Fever. Chapter VIII—SANTAREM Situation of Santarem — Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants — Climate — Grassy Campos and Woods — Excursions to Mapirí, Mahicá, and Irurá, with Sketches of their Natural History; Palms, Wild Fruit-trees, Mining Wasps, Mason Wasps, Bees, and Sloths. Chapter IX—VOYAGE UP THE TAPAJOS Preparations for Voyage — First Day’s Sail — Loss of Boat — Altar do Chao — Modes of obtaining Fish — Difficulties with Crew — Arrival at Aveyros — Excursions in the Neighbourhood — White Cebus, and Habits and Dispositions of Cebi Monkeys — Tame Parrot — Missionary Settlement — Entering the River Cuparí — Adventure with Anaconda — Smoke-dried Monkey — Boa-constrictor — Village of Mundurucu Indians, and Incursion of a Wild Tribe — Falls of the Cuparí — Hyacinthine Macaw — Re-emerge into the broad Tapajos — Descent of River to Santarem. Chapter X—THE UPPER AMAZONS — VOYAGE TO EGA Departure from Barra — First Day and Night on the Upper Amazons — Desolate Appearance of River in the Flood Season — Cucáma Indians — Mental Condition of Indians — Squalls — Manatee — Forest — Floating Pumice Stones from the Andes — Falling Banks — Ega and its Inhabitants — Daily Life of a Naturalist at Ega — The Four Seasons of the Upper Amazons. Chapter XI—EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF EGA The River Teffé — Rambles through Groves on the Beach — Excursion to the House of a Passé Chieftain — Character and Customs of the Passé Tribe — First Excursion to the Sand Islands of the Solimoens — Habits of Great River-turtle — Second Excursion — Turtle-fishing in the Inland Pools — Third Excursion — Hunting-rambles with Natives in the Forest — Return to Ega. Chapter XII—ANIMALS OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF EGA Scarlet-faced Monkeys — Paráuacu Monkey — Owl-faced Night-apes — Marmosets — Jupurá — Bats — Birds — Cuvier’s Toucan — Curl-crested Toucan — Insects — Pendulous Cocoons — Foraging Ants — Blind Ants. Chapter XIII—EXCURSIONS BEYOND EGA Steamboat Travelling on the Amazons — Passengers — Tunantins — Caishána Indians — The Jutahí — The Sapó — Marauá Indians — Fonte Boa — Journey to St. Paulo — Tucúna Indians — Illness — Descent to Pará — Changes at Pará — Departure for England. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Saüba or Leaf-carrying Ant Saüba Ant—Female Climbing Palm (Desmoncus) Interior of Primæval Forest on the Amazons Amphisbæna Acrosma Arcuatum Assai Palm (Euterpe Oleracea) Bird-killing Spider (Mygale Avicularia) attacking Finches Ant-eater grappling with Dog Humming-bird and Humming-bird Hawk-moth Soldiers of different Species of White Ants—Ordinary Shape of Worker—Winged Class Acari Fish (Loricaria Duodecimalis) Flat-topped Mountains of Paráua-quára, Lower Amazons Heliconius Thelxiope—Heliconius Melpomene Musical Cricket (Chlorocœlus Tananá) Peuriríma Palm (Bactris) Peloæus Wasp building Nest Cells of Trypoxylon Aurifrons Melipona Bees gathering Clay The Jacuarú (Teius Teguexim) Acará (Mesonauta Insignis) Sarapó (Carapus)—Needle-fish (Hemaramphus) Bulging-stemmed Palm: Pashiúba Barrigudo (Iriartea Ventricosa) Uikí Fruit Pupunha Palm Blow-gun, Quiver, and Arrow Surubim (Pimelodus Tigrinus) Arrow used in Turtle Shooting Turtle Fishing and Adventure with Alligator Night Adventure with Alligator Umbrella Bird Scarlet-faced and Parauacú Monkeys Curl-crested Toucan Adventure with Curl-crested Toucans Suspended Cocoon of Moth Sack-bearing Caterpillar (Saccophora) Foraging Ants (Eciton Drepanophora) Foraging Ants (Eciton Erratica) constructing a Covered Road—Soldiers sallying out on being disturbed Masked-dance and Wedding-feast of Tucúna Indians Map 1 Map 2 Map 3 AN APPRECIATION From Natural History Review, vol. iii. 1863. BY CHARLES DARWIN Author of The Origin of Species, etc. In April, 1848, the author of the present volume left England in company with Mr. A. R. Wallace—“who has since acquired wide fame in connection with the Darwinian theory of Natural Selection”—on a joint expedition up the river Amazons, for the purpose of investigating the Natural History of the vast wood-region traversed by that mighty river and its numerous tributaries. Mr. Wallace returned to England after four years’ stay, and was, we believe, unlucky enough to lose the greater part of his collections by the shipwreck of the vessel in which he had transmitted them to London. Mr. Bates prolonged his residence in the Amazon valley seven years after Mr. Wallace’s departure, and did not revisit his native country again until 1859. Mr. Bates was also more fortunate than his companion in bringing his gathered treasures home to England in safety. So great, indeed, was the mass of specimens accumulated by Mr. Bates during his eleven years’ researches, that upon the working out of his collection, which has been accomplished (or is now in course of being accomplished) by different scientific naturalists in this country, it has been ascertained that representatives of no less than 14,712 species are amongst them, of which about 8000 were previously unknown to science. It may be remarked that by far the greater portion of these species, namely, about 14,000, belong to the class of Insects—to the study of which Mr. Bates principally devoted his attention—being, as is well known, himself recognised as no mean authority as regards this class of organic beings. In his present volume, however, Mr. Bates does not confine himself to his entomological discoveries, nor to any other branch of Natural History, but supplies a general outline of his adventures during his journeyings up and down the mighty river, and a variety of information concerning every object of interest, whether physical or political, that he met with by the way. Mr. Bates landed at Pará in May, 1848. His first part is entirely taken up with an account of the Lower Amazons—that is, the river from its sources up to the city of Manaos or Barra do Rio Negro, where it is joined by the large northern confluent of that name—and with a narrative of his residence at Pará and his various excursions in the neighbourhood of that city. The large collection made by Mr. Bates of the animal productions of Pará enabled him to arrive at the following conclusions regarding the relations of the Fauna of the south side of the Amazonian delta with those of other regions. “It is generally allowed that Guiana and Brazil, to the north and south of the Pará district, form two distinct provinces, as regards their animal and vegetable inhabitants. By this it means that the two regions have a very large number of forms peculiar to themselves, and which are supposed not to have been derived from other quarters during modern geological times. Each may be considered as a centre of distribution in the latest process of dissemination of species over the surface of tropical America. Pará lies midway between the two centres, each of which has a nucleus of elevated table-land, whilst the intermediate river-valley forms a wide extent of low-lying country. It is, therefore, interesting to ascertain from which the latter received its population, or whether it contains so large a number of endemic species as would warrant the conclusion that it is itself an independent province. To assist in deciding such questions as these, we must compare closely the species found in the district with those of the other contiguous regions, and endeavour to ascertain whether they are identical, or only slightly modified, or whether they are highly peculiar. “Von Martius when he visited this part of Brazil forty years ago, coming from the south, was much struck with the dissimilarity of the animal and vegetable productions to those of other parts of Brazil. In fact the Fauna of Pará, and the lower part of the Amazons has no close relationship with that of Brazil proper; but it has a very great affinity with that of the coast region of Guiana, from Cayenne to Demerara. If we may judge from the results afforded by the study of certain families of insects, no peculiar Brazilian forms are found in the Pará district; whilst more than one-half of the total number are essentially Guiana species, being found nowhere else but in Guiana and Amazonia. Many of them, however, are modified from the Guiana type, and about one-seventh seem to be restricted to Pará. These endemic species are not highly peculiar, and they may yet be found over a great part of Northern Brazil when the country is better explored. They do not warrant us in concluding that the district forms an independent province, although they show that its Fauna is not wholly derivative, and that the land is probably not entirely a new formation. From all these facts, I think we must conclude that the Pará district belongs to the Guiana province and that, if it is newer land than Guiana, it must have received the great bulk of its animal population from that region. I am informed by Dr. Sclater that similar results are derivable from the comparison of the birds of these countries.” One of the most interesting excursions made by Mr. Bates from Pará was the ascent of the river Tocantins—the mouth of which lies about 45 miles from the city of Pará. This was twice attempted. On the second occasion—our author being in company with Mr. Wallace—the travellers penetrated as far as the rapids of Arroyos, about 130 miles from its mouth. This district is one of the chief collecting-grounds of the well-known Brazil-nut (Bertholletia excelsa), which is here very plentiful, grove after grove of these splendid trees being visible, towering above their fellows, with the “woody fruits, large and round as cannon-balls, dotted over the branches.” The Hyacinthine Macaw (Ara hyacinthina) is another natural wonder, first met with here. This splendid bird, which is occasionally brought alive to the Zoological Gardens of Europe, “only occurs in the interior of Brazil, from 16° S.L. to the southern border of the Amazon valley.” Its enormous beak—which must strike even the most unobservant with wonder—appears to be adapted to enable it to feed on the nuts of the Mucuja Palm (Acrocomia lasiospatha). “These nuts, which are so hard as to be difficult to break with a heavy hammer, are crushed to a pulp by the powerful beak of this Macaw.” Mr. Bates’ later part is mainly devoted to his residence at Santarem, at the junction of the Rio Tapajos with the main stream, and to his account of Upper Amazon, or Solimoens—the Fauna of which is, as we shall presently see, in many respects very different from that of the lower part of the river. At Santarem—“the most important and most civilised settlement on the Amazon, between the Atlantic and Pará”—Mr. Bates made his headquarters for three years and a half, during which time several excursions up the little-known Tapajos were effected. Some 70 miles up the stream, on its affluent, the Cuparí, a new Fauna, for the most part very distinct from that of the lower part of the same stream, was entered upon. “At the same time a considerable proportion of the Cuparí species were identical with those of Ega, on the Upper Amazon, a district eight times further removed than the village just mentioned.” Mr. Bates was more successful here than on his excursion up the Tocantins, and obtained twenty new species of fishes, and many new and conspicuous insects, apparently peculiar to this part of the Amazonian valley. In a later chapter Mr. Bates commences his account of the Solimoens, or Upper Amazons, on the banks of which he passed four years and a half. The country is a “magnificent wilderness, where civilised man has, as yet, scarcely obtained a footing—the cultivated ground, from the Rio Negro to the Andes, amounting only to a few score acres.” During the whole of this time Mr. Bates’ headquarters were at Ega, on the Teffé, a confluent of the great river from the south, whence excursions were made sometimes for 300 or 400 miles into the interior. In the intervals Mr. Bates followed his pursuit as a collecting naturalist in the same “peaceful, regular way,” as he might have done in a European village. Our author draws a most striking picture of the quiet, secluded life he led in this far-distant spot. The difficulty of getting news and the want of intellectual society were the great drawbacks—“the latter increasing until it became almost insupportable.” “I was obliged at last,” Mr. Bates naively remarks, “to come to the conclusion that the contemplation of Nature, alone is not sufficient to fill the human heart and mind.” Mr. Bates must indeed have been driven to great straits as regards his mental food, when, as he tell us, he took to reading the Athenæum three times over, “the first time devouring the more interesting articles—the second, the whole of the remainder— and the third, reading all the advertisements from beginning to end.” Ega was, indeed, as Mr. Bates remarks, a fine field for a Natural History collector, the only previous scientific visitants to that region having been the German Naturalists, Spix and Martius, and the Count de Castelnau when he descended the Amazons from the Pacific. Mr. Bates’ account of the monkeys of the genera Brachyurus, Nyctipithecus and Midas met with in this region, and the whole of the very pregnant remarks which follow on the American forms of the Quadrumana, will be read with interest by every one, particularly by those who pay attention to the important subject of geographical distribution. We need hardly say that Mr. Bates, after the attention he has bestowed upon this question, is a zealous advocate of the hypothesis of the origin of species by derivation from a common stock. After giving an outline of the general distribution of Monkeys, he clearly argues that unless the “common origin at least of the species of a family be admitted, the problem of their distribution must remain an inexplicable mystery.” Mr. Bates evidently thoroughly understands the nature of this interesting problem, and in another passage, in which the very singular distribution of the Butterflies of the genus Heliconius is enlarged upon, concludes with the following significant remarks upon this important subject:— “In the controversy which is being waged amongst Naturalists since the publication of the Darwinian theory of the origin of species, it has been rightly said that no proof at present existed of the production of a physiological species, that is, a form which will not interbreed with the one from which it was derived, although given ample opportunities of doing so, and does not exhibit signs of reverting to its parent form when placed under the same conditions with it. Morphological species, that is, forms which differ to an amount that would justify their being considered good species, have been produced in plenty through selection by man out of variations arising under domestication or cultivation. The facts just given are therefore of some scientific importance, for they tend to show that a physiological species can be and is produced in nature out of the varieties of a pre-existing closely allied one. This is not an isolated case, for I observed in the course of my travels a number of similar instances. But in very few has it happened that the species which clearly appears to be the parent, co-exists with one that has been evidently derived from it. Generally the supposed parent also seems to have been modified, and then the demonstration is not so clear, for some of the links in the chain of variation are wanting. The process of origination of a species in nature as it takes place successively, must be ever, perhaps, beyond man’s power to trace, on account of the great lapse of time it requires. But we can obtain a fair view of it by tracing a variable and far-spreading species over the wide area of its present distribution; and a long observation of such will lead to the conclusion that new species must in all cases have arisen out of variable and widely-disseminated forms. It sometimes happens, as in the present instance, that we find in one locality a species under a certain form which is constant to all the individuals concerned; in another exhibiting numerous varieties; and in a third presenting itself as a constant form quite distinct from the one we set out with. If we meet with any two of these modifications living side by side, and maintaining their distinctive characters under such circumstances, the proof of the natural origination of a species is complete; it could not be much more so were we able to watch the process step by step. It might be objected that the difference between our two species is but slight, and that by classing them as varieties nothing further would be proved by them. But the differences between them are such as obtain between allied species generally. Large genera are composed in great part of such species, and it is interesting to show the great and beautiful diversity within a large genus as brought about by the working of laws within our comprehension.” But to return to the Zoological wonders of the Upper Amazon, birds, insects, and butterflies are all spoken of by Mr. Bates in his chapter on the natural features of the district, and it is evident that none of these classes of beings escaped the observation of his watchful intelligence. The account of the foraging ants of the genus Eciton is certainly marvellous, and would, even of itself, be sufficient to stamp the recorder of their habits as a man of no ordinary mark. The last chapter of Mr. Bates’ work contains the account of his excursions beyond Ega. Fonteboa, Tunantins—a small semi-Indian settlement, 240 miles up the stream—and San Paulo de Olivenca, some miles higher up, were the principal places visited, and new acquisitions were gathered at each of these localities. In the fourth month of Mr. Bates’ residence at the last-named place, a severe attack of ague led to the abandonment of the plans he had formed of proceeding to the Peruvian towns of Pebas and Moyobamba, and “so completing the examination of the Natural History of the Amazonian plains up to the foot of the Andes.” This attack, which seemed to be the culmination of a gradual deterioration of health, caused by eleven years’ hard work under the tropics, induced him to return to Ega, and finally to Pará, where he embarked, on the 2nd June 1859, for England. Naturally enough, Mr. Bates tells us he was at first a little dismayed at leaving the equator, “where the well-balanced forces of Nature maintain a land-surface and a climate typical of mind, and order and beauty,” to sail towards the “crepuscular skies” of the cold north. But he consoles us by adding the remark that “three years’ renewed experience of England” have convinced him “how incomParábly superior is civilised life to the spiritual sterility of half-savage existence, even if it were passed in the Garden of Eden.” * * * The following is the list of H. W. Bates’ published works: Contributions to an insect Fauna of the Amazon Valley, Paper read before the Linnean Society, June 21, 1861; The Naturalist on the Amazons, a Record of Adventure, Habits of Animals, Sketches of Brazilian and Indian Life . . . during Eleven Years of Travel, 1863; 3rd Edition, 1873, with a Memoir of the author by E. Clodd to reprint of unabridged edition, 1892. Bates was for many years the editor of the Transactions of the Royal Geographical Society; the following works were edited and revised, or supplemented by him:—Mrs. Somerville’s Physical Geography, 1870; A. Humbert, Japan and the Japanese, 1874; C. Koldewey, the German Arctic Expedition, 1874; P. E. Warburton, Journey across the Western Interior of Australia, 1875; Cassell’s Illustrated Travels, 6 vols., 1869-1875; E. Whymper, Travels among the Great Andes of the Equator (Introduction to Appendix volume), 1892, etc.; Central America, the West Indies and South America; Stanford’s Compendium of Geography and Travel, 2nd revised Ed., 1882; he also added a list of Coleoptera collected by J. S. Jameson on the Aruwini to the latter’s Story of the Rear Column of the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition, etc., 1890; and an appendix to a catalogue of Phytophaga by H. Clark, 1866, etc.; and contributed a biographical notice of Keith Johnson to J. Thomson’s Central African Lakes and Back, 1881. He contributed largely to the Zoologist, Entomological Society’s Journal, Annals and Magazine of Natural History, and Entomologist. LIFE—Memoir by E. Clodd, 1892; short notice in Clodd’s Pioneers of Evolution, 1897. AUTHOR’S PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1864 Having been urged to prepare a new edition of this work for a wider circle than that contemplated in the former one, I have thought it advisable to condense those portions which, treating of abstruse scientific questions, presuppose a larger amount of Natural History knowledge than an author has a right to expect of the general reader. The personal narrative has been left entire, together with those descriptive details likely to interest all classes, young and old, relating to the great river itself, and the wonderful country through which it flows,—the luxuriant primaeval forests that clothe almost every part of it, the climate, productions, and inhabitants. Signs are not wanting that this fertile, but scantily peopled region will soon become, through recent efforts of the Peruvian and Brazilian governments to make it accessible and colonise it, of far higher importance to the nations of Northern Europe than it has been hitherto. The full significance of the title, the “largest river in the world,” which we are all taught in our schoolboy days to apply to the Amazons, without having a distinct idea of its magnitude, will then become apparent to the English public. It will be new to most people, that this noble stream has recently been navigated by steamers to a distance of 2200 geographical miles from its mouth at Pará, or double the distance which vessels are able to reach on the Yang-tze-Kiang, the largest river of the old world; the depth of water in the dry season being about seven fathoms up to this terminus of navigation. It is not, however, the length of the trunk stream, that has earned for the Amazons the appellation of the “Mediterranean of South America,” given it by the Brazilians of Pará; but the network of by-channels and lakes, which everywhere accompanies its course at a distance from the banks, and which adds many thousands of miles of easy inland navigation to the total presented by the main river and its tributaries. The Peruvians, especially, if I may judge from letters received within the past few weeks, seem to be stirring themselves to grasp the advantages which the possession of the upper course of the river places within their reach. Vessels of heavy tonnage have arrived in Pará, from England, with materials for the formation of shipbuilding establishments, at a point situated two thousand miles from the mouth of the river. Peruvian steamers have navigated from the Andes to the Atlantic, and a quantity of cotton (now exported for the first time), the product of the rich and healthy country bordering the Upper Amazons, has been conveyed by this means, and shipped from Pará to Europe. The probability of general curiosity in England being excited before long with regard to this hitherto neglected country, will be considered, of itself, a sufficient reason for placing an account of its natural features and present condition within reach of all readers. LONDON, January, 1864. Chapter I. PARÁ Arrival — Aspect of the Country — The Pará River — First Walk in the Suburbs of Pará — Birds, Lizards, and Insects of the Suburbs — Leaf-carrying Ant — Sketch of the Climate, History, and present Condition of Pará. I embarked at Liverpool, with Mr. Wallace, in a small trading vessel, on the 26th of April, 1848; and, after a swift passage from the Irish Channel to the equator, arrived, on the 26th of May, off Salinas. This is the pilot-station for vessels bound to Pará, the only port of entry to the vast region watered by the Amazons. It is a small village, formerly a missionary settlement of the Jesuits, situated a few miles to the eastward of the Pará River. Here the ship anchored in the open sea at a distance of six miles from the shore, the shallowness of the water far out around the mouth of the great river not permitting, in safety, a nearer approach; and, the signal was hoisted for a pilot. It was with deep interest that my companion and myself, both now about to see and examine the beauties of a tropical country for the first time, gazed on the land where I, at least, eventually spent eleven of the best years of my life. To the eastward the country was not remarkable in appearance, being slightly undulating, with bare sand-hills and scattered trees; but to the westward, stretching towards the mouth of the river, we could see through the captain’s glass a long line of forest, rising apparently out of the water; a densely-packed mass of tall trees, broken into groups, and finally into single trees, as it dwindled away in the distance. This was the frontier, in this direction, of the great primaeval forest characteristic of this region, which contains so many wonders in its recesses, and clothes the whole surface of the country for two thousand miles from this point to the foot of the Andes. On the following day and night we sailed, with a light wind, partly aided by the tide, up the Pará river. Towards evening we passed Vigia and Colares, two fishing villages, and saw many native canoes, which seemed like toys beneath the lofty walls of dark forest. The air was excessively close, the sky overcast, and sheet lightning played almost incessantly around the horizon—an appropriate greeting on the threshold of a country lying close under the equator! The evening was calm, this being the season when the winds are not strong, so we glided along in a noiseless manner, which contrasted pleasantly with the unceasing turmoil to which we had been lately accustomed on the Atlantic. The immensity of the river struck us greatly, for although sailing sometimes at a distance of eight or nine miles from the eastern bank, the opposite shore was at no time visible. Indeed, the Pará river is thirty-six miles in breadth at its mouth; and at the city of Pará, nearly seventy miles from the sea, it is twenty miles wide; but at that point, a series of islands commences which contracts the riverview in front of the port. On the morning of the 28th of May, we arrived at our destination. The appearance of the city at sunrise was pleasing in the highest degree. It is built on a low tract of land, having only one small rocky elevation at its southern extremity; it, therefore, affords no amphitheatral view from the river; but the white buildings roofed with red tiles, the numerous towers and cupolas of churches and convents, the crowns of palm-trees reared above the buildings, all sharply defined against the clear blue sky, give an appearance of lightness and cheerfulness which is most exhilarating. The perpetual forest hems the city in on all sides landwards; and towards the suburbs, picturesque country houses are seen scattered about, half buried in luxuriant foliage. The port was full of native canoes and other vessels, large and small; and the ringing of bells and firing of rockets, announcing the dawn of some Roman Catholic festival day, showed that the population was astir at that early hour. We went ashore in due time, and were kindly received by Mr. Miller, the consignee of the vessel, who invited us to make his house our home until we could obtain a suitable residence. On landing, the hot moist mouldy air, which seemed to strike from the ground and walls, reminded me of the atmosphere of tropical stoves at Kew. In the course of the afternoon a heavy shower fell, and in the evening, the atmosphere having been cooled by the rain, we walked about a mile out of town to the residence of an American gentleman to whom our host wished to introduce us. The impressions received during this first walk can never wholly fade from my mind. After traversing the few streets of tall, gloomy, convent-looking buildings near the port, inhabited chiefly by merchants and shopkeepers, along which idle soldiers, dressed in shabby uniforms carrying their muskets carelessly over their arms, priests, negresses with red water-jars on their heads, sad-looking Indian women carrying their naked children astride on their hips, and other samples of the motley life of the place, we passed down a long narrow street leading to the suburbs. Beyond this, our road lay across a grassy common into a picturesque lane leading to the virgin forest. The long street was inhabited by the poorer class of the population. The houses were of one story only, and had an irregular and mean appearance. The windows were without glass, having, instead, projecting lattice casements. The street was unpaved, and inches deep in loose sand. Groups of people were cooling themselves outside their doors—people of all shades in colour of skin, European, Negro and Indian, but chiefly an uncertain mixture of the three. Amongst them were several handsome women dressed in a slovenly manner, barefoot or shod in loose slippers, but wearing richly-decorated earrings, and around their necks strings of very large gold beads. They had dark expressive eyes, and remarkably rich heads of hair. It was a mere fancy, but I thought the mingled squalor, luxuriance and beauty of these women were pointedly in harmony with the rest of the scene—so striking, in the view, was the mixture of natural riches and human poverty. The houses were mostly in a dilapidated condition, and signs of indolence and neglect were visible everywhere. The wooden palings which surrounded the weed-grown gardens were strewn about and broken; hogs, goats, and ill-fed poultry wandered in and out through the gaps. But amidst all, and compensating every defect, rose the overpowering beauty of the vegetation. The massive dark crowns of shady mangos were seen everywhere amongst the dwellings, amidst fragrant blossoming orange, lemon, and many other tropical fruit trees, some in flower, others in fruit, at varying stages of ripeness. Here and there, shooting above the more dome-like and sombre trees, were the smooth columnar stems of palms, bearing aloft their magnificent crowns of finely-cut fronds. Amongst the latter the slim assai-palm was especially noticeable, growing in groups of four or five; its smooth, gently-curving stem, twenty to thirty feet high, terminating in a head of feathery foliage, inexpressibly light and elegant in outline. On the boughs of the taller and more ordinary-looking trees sat tufts of curiously- leaved parasites. Slender, woody lianas hung in festoons from the branches, or were suspended in the form of cords and ribbons; whilst luxuriant creeping plants overran alike tree-trunks, roofs and walls, or toppled over palings in a copious profusion of foliage. The superb banana (Musa paradisiaca), of which I had always read as forming one of the charms of tropical vegetation, grew here with great luxuriance—its glossy velvety-green leaves, twelve feet in length, curving over the roofs of verandahs in the rear of every house. The shape of the leaves, the varying shades of green which they present when lightly moved by the wind, and especially the contrast they afford in colour and form to the more sombre hues and more rounded outline of the other trees, are quite sufficient to account for the charm of this glorious tree. Strange forms of vegetation drew our attention at almost every step. Amongst them were the different kinds of Bromelia, or pine-apple plants, with their long, rigid, sword-shaped leaves, in some species jagged or toothed along their edges. Then there was the bread-fruit tree—an importation, it is true; but remarkable from its large, glossy, dark green, strongly digitated foliage, and its interesting history. Many other trees and plants, curious in leaf, stem, or manner of growth, grew on the borders of the thickets along which lay our road; they were all attractive to newcomers, whose last country ramble of quite recent date was over the bleak moors of Derbyshire on a sleety morning in April. As we continued our walk the brief twilight commenced, and the sounds of multifarious life came from the vegetation around. The whirring of cicadas; the shrill stridulation of a vast number and variety of field crickets and grasshoppers, each species sounding its peculiar note; the plaintive hooting of tree frogs—all blended together in one continuous ringing sound—the audible expression of the teeming profusion of Nature. As night came on, many species of frogs and toads in the marshy places joined in the chorus—their croaking and drumming, far louder than anything I had before heard in the same line, being added to the other noises, created an almost deafening din. This uproar of life, I afterwards found, never wholly ceased, night or day. In the course of time I became, like other residents, accustomed to it. It is, however, one of the peculiarities of a tropical—at least, a Brazilian—climate which is most likely to surprise a stranger. After my return to England, the deathlike stillness of summer days in the country appeared to me as strange as the ringing uproar did on my first arrival at Pará. The object of our visit being accomplished, we returned to the city. The fire-flies were then out in great numbers, flitting about the sombre woods, and even the frequented streets. We turned into our hammocks, well pleased with what we had seen, and full of anticipation with regard to the wealth of natural objects we had come to explore. During the first few days, we were employed in landing our baggage and arranging our extensive apparatus. We then accepted the invitation of Mr. Miller to make use of his rocinha, or country-house in the suburbs, until we finally decided on a residence. Upon this, we made our first essay in housekeeping. We bought cotton hammocks, the universal substitute for beds in this country, cooking utensils and crockery, and engaged a free negro, named Isidoro, as cook and servant-of-all-work. Our first walks were in the immediate suburbs of Pará. The city lies on a corner of land formed by the junction of the river Guam&a with the Pará. As I have said before, the forest, which covers the whole country, extends close up to the city streets; indeed, the town is built on a tract of cleared land, and is kept free from the jungle only by the constant care of the Government. The surface, though everywhere low, is slightly undulating, so that areas of dry land alternate throughout with areas of swampy ground, the vegetation and animal tenants of the two being widely different. Our residence lay on the side of the city nearest the Guamá, on the borders of one of the low and swampy areas which here extends over a portion of the suburbs. The tract of land is intersected by well-macadamised suburban roads, the chief of which, the Estrada das Mongubeiras (the Monguba road), about a mile long, is a magnificent avenue of silk-cotton trees (Bombax monguba and B. ceiba), huge trees whose trunks taper rapidly from the ground upwards, and whose flowers before opening look like red balls studding the branches. This fine road was constructed under the governorship of the Count dos Arcos, about the year 1812. At right angles to it run a number of narrow green lanes, and the whole district is drained by a system of small canals or trenches through which the tide ebbs and flows, showing the lowness of the site. Before I left the country, other enterprising presidents had formed a number of avenues lined with cocoa-nut palms, almond and other trees, in continuation of the Monguba road, over the more elevated and drier ground to the north-east of the city. On the high ground the vegetation has an aspect quite different from that which it presents in the swampy parts. Indeed, with the exception of the palm-trees, the suburbs here have an aspect like that of a village green at home. The soil is sandy, and the open commons are covered with a short grassy and shrubby vegetation. Beyond this, the land again descends to a marshy tract, where, at the bottom of the moist hollows, the public wells are situated. Here all the linen of the city is washed by hosts of noisy negresses, and here also the water-carts are filled—painted hogsheads on wheels, drawn by bullocks. In early morning, when the sun sometimes shines through a light mist, and everything is dripping with moisture, this part of the city is full of life; vociferous negroes and wrangling Gallegos,[1] the proprietors of the water-carts, are gathered about, jabbering continually, and taking their morning drams in dirty wine-shops at the street corners. [1] Natives of Galicia, in Spain, who follow this occupation in Lisbon and Oporto, as well as at Pará. Along these beautiful roads we found much to interest us during the first few days. Suburbs of towns, and open, sunny cultivated places in Brazil, are tenanted by species of animals and plants which are mostly different from those of the dense primaeval forests. I will, therefore, give an account of what we observed of the animal world during our explorations in the immediate neighbourhood of Pará. The number and beauty of the birds and insects did not at first equal our expectations. The majority of the birds we saw were small and obscurely coloured; they were indeed similar, in general appearance, to such as are met with in country places in England. Occasionally a flock of small parroquets, green, with a patch of yellow on the forehead, would come at early morning to the trees near the Estrada. They would feed quietly, sometimes chattering in subdued tones, but setting up a harsh scream, and flying off, on being disturbed. Humming-birds we did not see at this time, although I afterwards found them by hundreds when certain trees were in flower. Vultures we only saw at a distance, sweeping round at a great height, over the public slaughter-houses. Several flycatchers, finches, ant-thrushes, a tribe of plainly-coloured birds, intermediate in structure between flycatchers and thrushes, some of which startle the new-comer by their extraordinary notes emitted from their places of concealment in the dense thickets; and also tanagers, and other small birds, inhabited the neighbourhood. None of these had a pleasing song, except a little brown wren (Troglodytes furvus), whose voice and melody resemble those of our English robin. It is often seen hopping and climbing about the walls and roofs of houses and on trees in their vicinity. Its song is more frequently heard in the rainy season, when the Monguba trees shed their leaves. At those times the Estrada das Mongubeiras has an appearance quite unusual in a tropical country. The tree is one of the few in the Amazon region which sheds all its foliage before any of the new leaf-buds expand. The naked branches, the sodden ground matted with dead leaves, the grey mist veiling the surrounding vegetation, and the cool atmosphere soon after sunrise, all combine to remind one of autumnal mornings in England. Whilst loitering about at such times in a half- oblivious mood, thinking of home, the song of this bird would create for the moment a perfect illusion. Numbers of tanagers frequented the fruit and other trees in our garden. The two principal kinds which attracted our attention were the Rhamphocoelus Jacapa and the Tanagra Episcopus. The females of both are dull in colour, but the male of Jacapa has a beautiful velvety purple and black plumage, the beak being partly white, whilst the same sex in Episcopus is of a pale blue colour, with white spots on the wings. In their habits they both resemble the common house- sparrow of Europe, which does not exist in South America, its place being in some measure filled by these familiar tanagers. They are just as lively, restless, bold, and wary; their notes are very similar, chirping and inharmonious, and they seem to be almost as fond of the neighbourhood of man. They do not, however, build their nests on houses. Another interesting and common bird was the Japim, a species of Cassicus (C. icteronotus). It belongs to the same family of birds as our starling, magpie, and rook—it has a rich yellow and black plumage, remarkably compact and velvety in texture. The shape of its head and its physiognomy are very similar to those of the magpie; it has light grey eyes, which give it the same knowing expression. It is social in its habits, and builds its nest, like the English rook, on trees in the neighbourhood of habitations. But the nests are quite differently constructed, being shaped like purses, two feet in length, and suspended from the slender branches all around the tree, some of them very near the ground. The entrance is on the side near the bottom of the nest. The bird is a great favourite with the Brazilians of Pará—it is a noisy, stirring, babbling creature, passing constantly to and fro, chattering to its comrades, and is very ready at imitating other birds, especially the domestic poultry of the vicinity. There was at one time a weekly newspaper published at Pará, called The Japim; the name being chosen, I suppose, on account of the babbling propensities of the bird. Its eggs are nearly round, and of a bluish-white colour, speckled with brown. Of other vertebrate animals we saw very little, except of the lizards. These are sure to attract the attention of the newcomer from Northern Europe, by reason of their strange appearance, great numbers, and variety. The species which are seen crawling over the walls of buildings in the city are different from those found in the forest or in the interior of houses. They are unpleasant- looking animals, with colours assimilated to those of the dilapidated stone and mud walls on which they are seen. The house lizards belong to a peculiar family, the Geckos, and are found even in the best-kept chambers, most frequently on the walls and ceilings, to which they cling motionless by day, being active only at night. They are of speckled grey or ashy colours. The structure of their feet is beautifully adapted for clinging to and running over smooth surfaces; the underside of their toes being expanded into cushions, beneath which folds of skin form a series of flexible plates. By means of this apparatus they can walk or run across a smooth ceiling with their backs downwards; the plated soles, by quick muscular action, exhausting and admitting air alternately. The Geckos are very repulsive in appearance. The Brazilians give them the name of Osgas, and firmly believe them to be poisonous; they are, however, harmless creatures. Those found in houses are small; but I have seen others of great size, in crevices of tree trunks in the forest. Sometimes Geckos are found with forked tails; this results from the budding of a rudimentary tail at the side, from an injury done to the member. A slight rap will cause their tails to snap off; the loss being afterwards partially repaired by a new growth. The tails of lizards seem to be almost useless appendages to these animals. I used often to amuse myself in the suburbs, whilst resting in the verandah of our house during the heat of mid-day, by watching the variegated green, brown, and yellow ground-lizards. They would come nimbly forward, and commence grubbing with their forefeet and snouts around the roots of herbage, searching for insect larvae. On the slightest alarm, they would scamper off, their tails cocked up in the air as they waddled awkwardly away, evidently an incumbrance to them in their flight. Next to the birds and lizards, the insects of the suburbs of Pará deserve a few remarks. The species observed in the weedy and open places, as already remarked, were generally different from those which dwell in the shades of the forest. In the gardens, numbers of fine showy butterflies were seen. There were two swallow-tailed species, similar in colours to the English Papilio Machaon; a white Pieris (P. Monuste), and two or three species of brimstone and orange coloured butterflies, which do not belong, however, to the same genus as our English species. In weedy places a beautiful butterfly, with eye-like spots on its wings was common, the Junonia Lavinia, the only Amazonian species which is at all nearly related to our Vanessas, the Admiral and Peacock Butterflies. One day, we made our first acquaintance with two of the most beautiful productions of nature in this department—namely, the Helicopis Cupido and Endymion. A little beyond our house, one of the narrow green lanes which I have already mentioned diverged from the Monguba avenue, and led, between enclosures overrun with a profusion of creeping plants and glorious flowers, down to a moist hollow, where there was a public well in a picturesque nook, buried in a grove of Mucajá palm-trees. On the tree trunks, walls, and palings, grew a great quantity of climbing Pothos plants, with large glossy heart-shaped leaves. These plants were the resort of these two exquisite species, and we captured a great number of specimens. They are of extremely delicate texture. The wings are cream-coloured, the hind pair have several tail-like appendages, and are spangled beneath as if with silver. Their flight is very slow and feeble; they seek the protected under-surface of the leaves, and in repose close their wings over the back, so as to expose the brilliantly spotted under-surface. I will pass over the many other orders and families of insects, and proceed at once to the ants. These were in great numbers everywhere, but I will mention here only two kinds. We were amazed at seeing ants an inch and a quarter in length, and stout in proportion, marching in single file through the thickets. These belonged to the species called Dinoponera grandis. Its colonies consist of a small number of individuals, and are established about the roots of slender trees. It is a stinging species, but the sting is not so severe as in many of the smaller kinds. There was nothing peculiar or attractive in the habits of this giant amongst the ants. Another far more interesting species was the Saüba (Œcodoma cephalotes). This ant is seen everywhere about the suburbs, marching to and fro in broad columns. From its habit of despoiling the most valuable cultivated trees of their foliage, it is a great scourge to the Brazilians. In some districts it is so abundant that agriculture is almost impossible, and everywhere complaints are heard of the terrible pest. The workers of this species are...